


glitter, glitter

by fairyslush



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Filth, Fluff and Smut, Getting Together, M/M, Urban Fantasy, Walks In The Woods, yeah uh um im sorry for everything this is just
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 19:01:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17350814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairyslush/pseuds/fairyslush
Summary: the woods are full of surprises.a pink-haired witch is just one of them.





	glitter, glitter

**Author's Note:**

> see, sometimes a prompt is a someone telling me that purity ring songs are horny witch energy. the song rec for this one is repetition, by purity ring. enjoy!

 

when he thinks of the woods from the fairytales he’s read as a kid, johnny feels enchantment, a sense of bewilderment and awe. the woods contain magic, right? it’s where the story _always_ happens.

but, he’s not a kid anymore—he’s grown to six foot two and he’s barely twenty-four, and the woods are really nothing but a mess of brambles and branches his feet have been accustomed to tripping on.

“ _nakamoto yuta_!” johnny wails as he sits himself at the foot of a rather large tree. the leaves don’t really make for a comfortable cushion for his butt, but his knee is _killing_ him, and he _has_ to take a breather unless he wants the news ablaze with his name. _local grad student found dead in the woods_ really doesn’t have a nice ring to it, and he has dreams he has yet to fulfill.

no one answers to his wailing. _great_. amazing. his knee is bleeding, he’s sticky from the humidity, and his roommate-slash-best-friend has left him to die alone in some shady part of the woods.

maybe it’s time to reconsider his friendships. _if_ and when he survives this, at least.

“hey?”

see, when johnny hears what seems to be the sweetest voice in the world calling his attention, his first instinct is to scrunch up his brows and blink. no one can sound that sweet in a forest. if they do, they’re probably a witch, and they’re going to lead him into this nice cottage, fatten him up and eat his entrails.

but then, johnny sees the sweetest face that’s behind the sweetest voice and thinks that, no, he doesn’t mind getting eaten. not one bit.

“hi,” comes his dumb reply. he thinks he’s gaping, but there’s no sign of discomfort on the other’s face so he makes no effort to school his expression. “how may i help you?”

johnny thinks he’s seeing an angel. he probably snagged his arm on a poisonous plant and is feeling the after effects, but if this is how he goes then maybe death isn’t so scary. the guy had pink hair—like _cotton candy_ —kept in place by an overload of gold hair pins. he’s got the kind of face johnny likes—a perfect mix of soft and hard, chiseled yet delicate. and those _lips._ like _cherries_. johnny thinks the poison must be really strong, because he sure as hell feels like he’s falling in love.

“more like how may _i_ help you,” the guy says with a chuckle. _fantastic._ pinky has a sense of humor too, aside from being absolutely _immaculate._ “your knee doesn’t look so good.”

“yeah,” johnny nods, lamely, wincing a bit as he tries to adjust his posture. “i’m not really the most graceful person, and there’s a lot of things you can trip on in the woods.”

pinky chuckles, and johnny thinks he hears church bells. “not a mountain person?”

“nope,” he shakes his head, popping the last syllable. “my friend is, but he left me to rot here and die.”

the guy’s brow furrows. “that doesn’t sound like a very good friend.”

“ _no_ , but he has his moments,” johnny motions, momentarily forgetting about the dull ache in his knee. “this just isn’t one of those, but i can’t really blame him for just being done with my jelly legs.”

the conversation drops at that, and they’re suddenly surrounded by silence. johnny thinks of restarting the entire gig, but there’s a shuffling of leaves, the ruffle of a cloak on dry foliage, and that’s when he notices that pinky has crouched down in an effort to assess the damage on his knee. _that’s_ where he also notices that pinky’s pink hair is smack dab on his nose, almost asking to be sniffed.

beyond himself, johnny takes a small whiff, and inwardly curses.

 _cotton candy,_ he notes. _he smells like cotton candy._

“can you stand?” pinky asks, and johnny shakes off any more candied thoughts to give a nod.

“i _think_?” he makes a point of trying to straighten his legs and lift himself off of the forest floor, but it’s a valiant effort that ends in comic vain. “well, _no_. apparently not.”

pinky chuckles, shaking his head, obviously amused. he takes johnny’s arm and slings it around his shoulder, easing the weight off of his leg as he’s pulled up to his full height. with that done, johnny notes that the guy’s head is barely at his chin level, and it takes all of his wits to keep himself from cooing.

“my cottage is just around here,” pinky motions, trudging towards wherever with heavy steps. “i can tend to your wound. and just in time too—i’m developing this new ointment for quicker healing.”

johnny’s brow quirks at the mention of developing cures. “are you a pharmacist of sorts?”

“no,” pinky answers with a chuckle. “i’m a witch.”

 

**✨**

 

unlike most people in seoul, johnny grew up overseas, right in the heart of chilly chicago. this means that instead of dragons and kumihos and filial daughters, he grew up with stories of princesses waiting for princes charming, little kids getting trapped by hideous witches after getting lost in the woods.

he has no idea why he’s here. it’s a _nice_ cottage, neat and cozy, and he completely approves of the presence of a couple of plushies on the assortment of shelves. it even has an impeccable garden, one that he took a hundred pictures of, despite pinky’s protests that he should go in and get his knee washed and checked. but that one german tale lovingly reminds him that the cutest houses contain the meanest witches, all of whom are keen on harvesting his organs for a midnight feast.

“is this like _hansel and gretel_?” he asks, just to be safe. pinky’s brows furrow in offense, and it makes johnny purse his lips, but he doesn’t backpedal on his statement. “like, are you going to eat me?”

“heavens, no,” pinky answers, and johnny breathes out a sigh of relief. “i don’t eat humans… _no._ ”

that’s the end of that inquiry. johnny watches as pinky goes back to ridding himself of his cloak, and johnny gulps at the ensemble underneath. it’s this two-piece suit, but the first piece is just a blazer before it’s all _chest,_ and johnny has photographed enough models in his many undergraduate part-times to know that those high-waist pants wouldn’t look good on just anybody. if pinky turns out to be lying, and he’s really about to get served as _casserole ala youngho_ when the sun is down, he finds himself thinking that he doesn’t mind getting eaten if this is the witch he’ll become dinner for.

“what did you say?”

did he say that last part out loud? damn, those poisonous whatevers got him good.

“nothing, _nothing_.” johnny shakes his head, clearing the air with a wave. “what’s your name?”

pinky merely quirks a brow, before going back to picking off bottles from his (color-coded) shelves.

“i’m johnny,” johnny continues, thinking it might be customary to introduce oneself first in the house of a witch. manners maketh man, you know? “or youngho. whatever’s more comfortable for you.”

“wah,” there’s mockery in pinky’s tone, but it’s more friendly than condescending. “giving out your name so easily? what if i were a fae?”

“you told me you were a witch,” johnny quips, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. “but are you?”

“no, not at all.” pinky supplies with a soft chuckle. “i’m taeyong. and i think johnny sounds cuter.”

 _taeyong_. johnny repeats in his head, commits it to memory. “nice to meet you.”

“likewise,” pink—taeyong banters, walking forth and handing him a small potion bottle. johnny blinks at the delicate artifact, watching as the liquid inside sloshes and slurs. “it’s a potion.”

“for what?” johnny asks, careful. who knows what’s inside that vial.

“it’ll help replenish your energy,” taeyong explains, twisting the cap off as he offers for a second time. “don’t worry. i made it taste like peach juice.”

there’s a voice in his head that tells him _no, don’t drink that,_ but johnny prides himself in being his own person that he outrightly ignores it, knocking the liquid back into his throat like he would with soju.

the taste of peach fills his mouth, and he feels a comfortable warmth seep through his veins. _huh._

“that was nice,” he comments, giving taeyong the vial. the witch snaps and it’s gone. _convenient_.

“now for your _knee_ ,” taeyong has a jar in one hand and a pair of scissors in the other. johnny noticeably tenses, and his obvious stress makes taeyong laugh as he kneels by his poor, injured knee. “don’t worry, big guy. i only need to cut up your pants a bit so i can apply this properly.”

“okay,” johnny breathes, whistles his relief. “ _okay._ ”

the treatment doesn’t take long. johnny winces when taeyong dabs the ointment on his gaping wound, but the stinging pain easily turns into something more soothing; like he’s being healed.  

“what’s in that?” johnny asks, head tilted to a corner. “feels great.”

“magic,” taeyong answers, eyes scrunching up into little crescents. johnny wants to take a picture.

“can i?” he holds his camera up, shuts one eye to look at taeyong through the view finder. taeyong nods, smiling, and johnny takes the shot before the moment passes. “you’re really pretty, you know that?”

taeyong snorts, but his cheeks color with the sudden compliment. johnny feels unutterably successful.

“should i pose?”

johnny shakes his head no. “only if you want to. but you’re good like this.” a pause. “ _natural_.”

taeyong puts on this kittenish smirk, adjusts his posture, and gives johnny a full view of his collarbones. johnny almost drops his camera, but he finds his bearings, manages to immortalize the moment.

“thank you,” taeyong shifts so he’s sitting on his heels. johnny wonders why he hasn’t gotten up, but it’s a nice image, and he’s not complaining when the position makes taeyong look up with those doe-eyes of his. maybe hiking mountains wasn’t that bad. he’s going to have a lot to tell yuta when they reunite.

“no, thank _you_.” johnny parries, his smile gentle. “for helping me. i thought i was a goner.”

taeyong hums, worries his bottom tier. “do you feel better?’

“beyond better,” johnny answers, and it’s honest. his wound is fully healed.

“i’m glad.” there’s that eyesmile again. johnny stops himself from bringing his camera out.

“how do i make it up to you?” he asks instead. his mother raised him on good principles, and one of those is always giving back. pleases and thank yous, favors of gratitude, the works. he thinks it doesn’t hurt to run errands for this pretty witch, maybe get his number too after everything. the little things.

what he doesn’t expect, though, is the brush of fingers walking up his knee, onwards to his crotch.

 “what—" johnny blinks but makes no move to swat the other’s hand off. “what are you doing?”

“showing you how to make it up to me.” the witch hums, eyes trained on the prize. his fingers brush against the front of johnny’s zipper, and johnny makes an embarrassing noise at the back of his throat.

“o- _oh_.”

“can i?” taeyong pauses, and johnny can’t even find it in himself to say no. however…

“do you do this to every lost hiker you find?”

johnny’s always been a romantic, so sue him. he’s sure the forest is no place for things like these, but taeyong is his _type_ , with the pretty pink hair and the cherry red lips and the little minx front that he wants to be more acquainted with. maybe it’s the peach potion from earlier, but he’s already nursing a little crush, and no matter how big the temptation, johnny’s really not one for one-night stands.

taeyong blinks at him, surprised, but it easily turns into amusement.

“only the ones i _like_ ,” he answers with smiling eyes, and johnny lets himself gasp on beautiful hope.

“well,” johnny hesitates, cursing his tendencies. “if i say yes, will i see you again?”

 _again,_ surprise paints taeyong’s features, and johnny wonders if he’s the only hiker who’s ever been this persistent. what can he say; he’s not really a hiker—he’s more of a _lover_ , if he is to be asked.

“perhaps,” comes taeyong’s answer, and it makes johnny deflate, just a little bit. “you have pictures of my cottage. it should be easy for you to find me again.”

johnny snorts, shaking his head. “you overestimate my sense of direction.”

taeyong shrugs, teasing. johnny thinks that he’d like to have this as a regular thing.

“how about a promise?” he suggests, raising his pinky.

“a promise?”

johnny hums, a bit sheepish. “ _yeah_. i…don’t want this to be the last.”

taeyong looks at his digit, contemplates, before raising his own and intertwining it with johnny’s. there’s a spark of light at the contact that makes both men blink, retreat, then giggle. a cute harmony, really.  

“promise.” taeyong closes, chewing on his bottom lip.

“ _okay_.” johnny really doesn’t know what the etiquette is in these situations. “okay. let’s do this.”

taeyong takes it as a signal and leans forth, fingers pinching his zipper. johnny grabs his wrists, an act that makes the witch’s brow furrow, but there’s this important _matter_ that needs to be settled first.

“can i kiss you?” johnny asks, and taeyong’s wide eyes grow even wider. “i mean i—"

“of course,” taeyong interrupts, nodding in fervent, eyes softening. “ _please_.”

with that, johnny leans down and cups taeyong’s cheeks, amused at how his head easily fits in his palms. the first kiss is soft, just a simple touch of lips, sweet and warm and gentle.

“like _cotton candy_ ,” johnny mutters against his chops, and goes in for another, much needier liplock.

he swipes at taeyong’s lips with tongue, explores his mouth when it beautifully parts. he moves so the witch is practically sitting on his lap, taeyong’s hands seeking purchase on his shirt, fingers bundled tight against the fabric. they stay like that for a while, studying how each other tastes, until taeyong moves from his mouth to his jaw, kissing a trail down his neck as he slides back to the floor, on his knees. he unzips johnny’s pants, makes quick work of pulling them down with his boxers, and gasps when he sees his cock spring forth, half-hard and leaking pre-come. johnny should be embarrassed, but taeyong’s eyes are sparkling at the sight, and he thanks his lucky stars for being gifted.

“wow,” taeyong exclaims, swallowing at the sight. “ _wow._ ”

“like it?” johnny asks, and he’s too satisfied at the hurried nods taeyong gives as an answer.

“you can be as rough as you want.” taeyong’s grin doesn’t match his words, but johnny’ll take it. _all of it._

taeyong spits on his palm and grabs the base of his cock, and johnny gasps at how good contact feels. taeyong’s palms are soft and smooth, his grip practiced, and johnny drags his fingers against the armrest to keep himself from bucking up this soon. taeyong enjoys the confidence boost, takes it as a sign to move forth, teasing the leaking tip with a few kitten licks that makes johnny writhe in pleasure.

“ _sensitive_.” taeyong purrs, his breath hot on his dick as he licks a long stripe up against the shaft. he earns an obscene moan from johnny, who knocks his head back, eyes closed shut to focus on feeling. with a soft kiss on the ruddy head, taeyong takes johnny’s full length in and _sucks_ , and johnny swears he suddenly has a new understanding of what the word magical means.

“yes, _baby_ ,” johnny croons, fingers tangling in taeyong’s mop of pink, his hips raising ever so slightly to fuck into the witch’s talented mouth. “you’re _so_ good.”

taeyong takes the praise and goes to town. johnny feels a knot form in his belly, and he knows he’s about to come undone. but, as was mentioned, johnny is a man raised on many principles, and one of those is knowing to share the pleasure. he’s been called a servile top, and he really has no fucking clue what that means, but if it’s connected to never leaving your partner hanging, then a servile top he is.

“wait,” johnny manages to choke out a word, voice hoarse from the high. “what about you?”

“i’m fine,” taeyong replies, before putting his dick back in his mouth. “this is good enough for me.”

johnny pouts. _pouts._ “but..?”

with what’s left of his focus, johnny moves his foot and nudges taeyong’s crotch—nothing but a light press. but taeyong moans, a great rumble in his throat, and he slides johnny’s dick out of his mouth to whine, all furrowed brows and doe eyes and pouted lips. johnny is enamored. smitten. _gone._

“unfair.” he whines, lips puckered outward.

“take off your pants.” johnny orders. “underwear too.”

taeyong quirks a brow at the sudden dominance, but he does what he is told, liking the change. johnny’s eyes never leave him, so he makes sure to make a show out of it, a swing to his hips as he walks forth.

“sit,” johnny pats his lap twice, and that’s all the prompting taeyong needs to claim the space.

johnny smiles at him, that smile of his that earned him a spot in his university’s bachelor’s list, and it’s a stark contrast to the kiss he gives after. it’s fevered and wet, his tongue laving over taeyong’s, quite enjoying his own taste still lingering in his mouth. taeyong grinds against him, his dick hard and pressed against his own shaft. johnny takes both in his hand and pumps, his mouth hot on taeyong’s own.

“i’ll hold for you,” he mutters against taeyong’s mouth, nibbles on his bottom lip. “let’s come together.”

johnny holds taeyong close, rocking into his hand and against taeyong’s cock until they’re both spilling over. johnny moans against taeyong’s chin, spit-slick and heated, and taeyong trembles— _trembles—_ back arched beautifully with the intensity of his orgasm. johnny steadies him despite the haze of his own climax, presses soft kisses against his face as they both come down from the pleasure.

“so…” johnny knocks his forehead against taeyong’s, and they do a chorus of giggles.

“yes?” taeyong replies, and johnny enjoys the daze in his syllables. that’s _his_ work, and he is proud.

with his clean hand, johnny holds his camera up, and snaps a picture of taeyong and his after-sex glow.

“wah,” taeyong’s nose scrunches at the attention. “maybe i should start charging for pictures.”

“just put it on my tab,” johnny quips, booping taeyong’s nose with his own. “i c—”

he glares at the sudden obnoxious ringing, before realizing that it’s his own ringtone, blaring from his forgotten knapsack. taeyong chuckles, sensing his hesitation to move. with a snap, his phone is now in his hands, the volume even louder than before.

“who’s that?” he asks, turning a bit to peek at the screen. johnny frowns at the caller id.

 _nakamoto yuta_ , it reads.

 

**✨**

 

“i thought you were dead!”

johnny groans at the sight of his best friend, regretting his decision to leave that beautiful cottage that houses an even more beautiful witch. after yuta’s call (which he didn’t even answer; his voice really shows if he’s been making out, and he’s not risking any further questions), johnny reluctantly leaves taeyong’s abode, but not until after getting a good number of kisses from the pink-haired man.

(“i’ll see you soon?” taeyong asks, tone hopeful, and johnny kisses him as a preliminary answer.

“i’ll see you soon.” johnny repeats, leaving one last peck on the witch’s lips before he exits.)

“ha-ha,” johnny hopes yuta can feel his utter annoyance, which, frankly, dissipated after that little encounter. “i almost did, _asshole_. i was just lucky someone found me and helped me find my way.”

yuta has the audacity to wolf-whistle at his narration. “are they cute?”

johnny groans, gives an eye-roll. “none of your business.”

on the way down, johnny makes a mental note to sort all of the photos he took today, adds a little post script to send the best ones to taeyong. that’s when he realizes that he did something utterly stupid, that with all his talk of pinky promises and second meetings, he forgot to ask for taeyong’s number.

 

**✨**

 

taeyong likes to think that he’s someone with a good head on his shoulders. he’s a white witch; a very capable one at that, despite being the coven’s youngest at a youthful age of twenty-three. he makes helpful potions, bakes chocolate chip cookies, and helps lost hikers find their way back to civilization.

and _okay_ , sometimes he does more than help, but it’s been so long since he last had _any_ , and the poor guy with the jacked knee had such a pretty bow to his lips that he couldn’t help but do _more_. besides, _he_ obviously enjoyed it, what with the number of kisses they shared in such a short period of time. plus, _he_ promised it wouldn’t be the last—a _magical_ promise—and taeyong prays to his lucky stars and to the elders of his coven that the promise is enough for them to find each other once more.

see, despite thinking that he’s someone with a good head on his shoulders, taeyong sometimes does stupid things. case in point, forgetting to get johnny’s number, despite him being the best guy he has ever had the pleasure of sucking off in his many years of living in the woods.  

“he asked me if i was _fine_!” he whines to jungwoo, the young necromancer looking scandalized with his teacup pressed against his lips. “everybody just fucks into my throat, shoots their load, and goes!”

doyoung, a newly resurrected corpse (jungwoo likes the pretty ones the most), frowns at his admission.

“was it that good?” jungwoo questions, brow quirked as he sets his cup down on the table. taeyong’s own cup remains uncharacteristically untouched. “you’re not one to remember your meals.”

taeyong’s brows furrow at the implication. “ _excuse you._ for your information, i have a food pl—”

“i meant your _dick_ meals.”

“oh.” taeyong blinks, pauses, accepts his mistake.  

“you’re the type to suck-and-go, hyung.” jungwoo continues as doyoung’s frown deepens. jungwoo must’ve sensed it, because he starts patting the poor boy’s head for comfort. taeyong keens at the domesticity, and for a beat, wishes johnny would spoil him like that. “i barely even hear about them.”

“true,” taeyong admits, but for the record, he really hasn’t gone around for the past year. johnny was the first to _come_ —pun intended—in a bit over nine months, if he counted correctly. “but he was _really_ good, woo. and handsome too—it’s like he had honey in his eyes. _honey_!”

“sounds like a dream,” jungwoo deadpans. taeyong glares at his incredulity. “will you see him again?”

taeyong pouts, lays his head on the table, but raises his pinky finger. jungwoo whistles at the smattering of glitter at the tip. johnny’s own pinky should have the same pattern, a mark of a magical promise.

“i should,” taeyong claims it, speaks it into existence. he hopes it works. “he _promised_.”

 

**✨**

 

to say that johnny was in a good mood is an understatement. he’s got this skip to his step as he prances around his apartment, packing his knapsack with essentials, a smile on his face that is totally not a usual for saturday mornings. he knows yuta is looking at him like he’s some sort of mad man, but that’s really the last of his worries. he’s got a date with a cute witch and he’s absolutely _ecstatic._

(he wills the fact that he has no clue how to find the cottage again, much less go up the same trail to the back of his head. there’s glitter on his pinky, for god’s sake. he trusts the glitter. he trusts the _magic_.)

“are you hiking?” yuta finally asks, like it’s the most ridiculous thing in the world. “ _alone?_ ”

“yeah.” comes johnny’s simple answer. he walks to the mirror and fixes the blue plaid threw over his white shirt, adjusts the cuffs on his dark-rinse jeans. “yeah i am.”

“you’re wearing jeans.” yuta tuts, shaking his head. “to hike a _mountain_.”

johnny simply gives him this pinched look, marches back to his bedroom, and re-emerges in jogger pants instead. he thinks it’s a good change; makes his thighs look stronger. and his ass. his _ass._

yuta wolf-whistles. johnny questions his choice of friends. “you have a date in the mountains?”

“no,” johnny lies through his teeth. besides, it’s in the _woods_ , technically. “i just felt like it.”

“you _hate_ hiking.” yuta supplies, and he’s right. johnny isn’t a big fan of the entire gig. but there’s this super pretty cottage with a super pretty witch who makes super pretty sounds when he’s—okay. he’s stopping there. he’s not one to show up with a boner on a saturday morning date.

“maybe now i _don’t_ ,” more lies. if the news anchor thing doesn’t work, he could totally look into the tabloid industry. he’s getting good at manufacturing stories. “look. i found this nice clearing when i got lost last week—the week when you lovingly left me—and i want to take more photos.”

he raises his camera which has been dangling from his neck as punctuation.

“okay,” yuta does not sound convinced. “take me next time.”

“no,” johnny decides that it’s time to leave, so he does a final check of all his belongings—phone, wallet, his camera, condoms, lube (you _never_ know; the woods _are_ full of surprises), a change of clothes—and makes way for the door. “go hike on your own _, yukkuri_.”

“mean,” yuta throws him a pout, which he returns with a raised middle finger before the door shuts.

 

**✨**

it’s a cool saturday morning. johnny drops by his favorite bakery to buy a strawberry cake, smiling to himself as he’s reminded of the pink-haired witch he’s about to meet again. he prays taeyong isn’t allergic, because that would be a waste, but he’s good at eating anyway, so it shouldn’t be an issue.

the hike is fairly easy; yuta apparently had the grand idea of taking the scenic (read: exhausting) route last week, never telling him that (1) there’s an actual brick path that weaves through the mountain and (2) it’s where most hikers actually go. he remembers yuta blabbering something about taking the road less travelled or whatever, but he _doesn’t like hiking_ , and he probably never will.

unless of course, it means a date with a pretty witch, which is the only reason he even went back in the first place. maybe—just maybe—yuta did him good by taking him on a rocky lane instead.

“now where could it—” his pinky has been quite a reliable navigation device, glowing angry red when he’s going the wrong way and calming down to a soothing green when he’s got the path right. it’s been chartreuse for a while now, so johnny thinks he must be near, and his thoughts are confirmed when he sees a familiar garden—still impeccable, still highly fitting for the witch who calls it his abode.

attacked by a sudden surge of nerves, johnny pauses at the gate, worrying his lips between his teeth as he fluffs his hair up. taeyong should be inside, right? there’s a warm feeling in his belly, like a hunch that’s about to be proven right, and there’s really only one way to quell his worries. with a deep breath, he sucks up all the courage he could and takes a few long strides to the quaint wooden door.

johnny knocks thrice for good measure. he hears a shuffling of slippers, and the door opens just a bit, a small tuft of pink peeking out from the partition.

“hello?” taeyong’s voice is softer than he remembers, a hint of caution in his tone. “how may—”

it happens quickly. taeyong finally gets a good look at his smiling face, and johnny enjoys the way his features stretch out in genuine surprise. there’s a loud gasp, and the door is opened in full, all to give way for a taeyong leaping up against his form, arms around his neck and legs wound around his waist.

johnny’s really glad he works out on the regular.

“johnny!” glee drips from taeyong’s exclamation, and all prior doubts dissipate from johnny’s conscious. the witch nuzzles against his neck, almost like cat. “you’re back! and so soon too.”

“of course,” johnny assures, walking in with taeyong still clinging like a koala, and he closes the door behind them like a good guest should. “i did something really dumb, you know.”

worry paints taeyong’s features, and it almost breaks johnny’s composure.

“what dumb thing?” the witch asks, brows furrowed. his face is so, so close.

“i forgot to get your number,” johnny answers with a pitiful pout. there’s a beat as the joke finally registers in taeyong’s head, and the witch slowly begins his decent from tower john with a laugh.

“that makes the two of us,” taeyong quips, and that’s when johnny notices that he’s not wearing any pants. there’s a peek of loose shorts underneath the huge-ass dress shirt he’s wearing, and all it does is make johnny imagine how good taeyong would look in his clothes. he’d probably drown in them, sweater paws and all.   _delectable_. that’s the word he’s looking for.

in his reverie, he barely notices taeyong handing over his phone, and he thanks every otherworldly entity that witches weren’t as detached to technology as the stories go. in turn, johnny also hands him his phone, before storing his own contact details in taeyong’s phone book.

 _jyanie_. with a bear and a double heart emoji. and a honey pot too, for good measure.

taeyong hands him back his phone, and he smiles at the _taeyongie_ flanked by two sparkling hearts.

“don’t move,” johnny fires up his camera app, catches the quirk of taeyong’s brow. “contact picture.”

“oh.” taeyong says with a nod, before raising a peace sign to his eyes. johnny takes it as his cue to take another, and maybe another one, when taeyong bursts into giggles at his own little act.

“god,” johnny almost moans, but it remains wholesome. “you’re _adorable_.”

taeyong’s cheeks color pink, dragging his teeth on his bottom lip. “you’ve been saying that a lot.”

“only because it’s true,” johnny affirms, and its utter lameness makes tayeong chuckle. _three points!_

“then,” taeyong hums as he rocks on his heels. “you’re also cute.”

“well i do hope you like cute guys,” this earns him a nose scrunch, and a hit to his arm. johnny thinks he could do this all day, to be honest. but he remembers he’s stored a box of strawberry cake in his trusty knapsack, so he hurriedly sets the sturdy pack down, unearthing the treat that’s miraculously unharmed.

taeyong’s eyes blink before they go wide. “you shouldn’t have.”

“i wanted to,” johnny assures, looking around the cottage for a table to set the pastry on. taeyong is quick to take the box from his hands and set it on this doily-adorned dining table, and johnny watches in awe as plates and cutlery float to the placemats at the snaps of his delicate fingers.

“let’s eat it together,” taeyong invites, pulling a chair for himself one he takes the cake out of the box. johnny walks towards the table, grins as a chair magically drags itself out, ready to be sat on.

“i saw it and it reminded me of you,” he starts, taking the knife to put a large slice on taeyong’s plate. he puts an extra strawberry on the cream, prompted by the witch’s sparkling eyes.

apparently, the cream isn’t the only thing on this table that’s _whipped_.

“is it because my hair is pink?” taeyong asks, tasting the icing with his finger and moaning in ecstasy. johnny hopes he’s not doing this on purpose, but with last week’s happenings, he probably is.

“nah,” he answers, taking a slice for himself. “it’s because you’re _sweet_.”

taeyong sputters on his cake mid-bite. johnny immediately reaches for tissues, dabs his cheek free of any stray bits of pastry. for a moment, he thinks of how the cream would taste on taeyong’s skin.

“you’re flattering me,” taeyong sucks on a cream-covered strawberry. johnny tries hard to keep his thoughts wholesome, clears his throat when the haze becomes too much. “sweet talker.”

“no i’m not,” johnny gulps, giving his own slice laser guided focus. “i’m only telling the truth.”

when johnny made plans on visiting taeyong again, having sex was the last thing on his to do list. he likes to think that he’s not that kind of man; that his heart is a separate entity from johnny jr. of down below. besides, he _does_ like taeyong (yes, _like_ like); thinks he’s funny and kind and sweet, and the last thing he wants is for the cute witch to think that he only goes here for a roll on the sheets.

but see, life has this thing where it really just doesn’t prefer working to his preferences. he really thought that this day would just pass with them eating cake and drinking tea, like a normal date. and he’s fine with it. a hundred percent. he likes taeyong that much.

yet here he is, kneeling at the foot of taeyong’s bed, the witch’s dick just shy from hitting the back of his throat. taeyong’s fingers tug at his hair and he growls, taeyong’s back arching from the low rumble.

“yongie,” he croons, and there’s a pop when he pulls off, a smirk on his lips when he hears taeyong whine at the loss of contact, needy and greedy. “i wanna eat cake off of you.”  

taeyong just nods, and johnny makes quick work of retrieving what was left of the pastry from the table. it’s a short trip, but taeyong practically demands that he goes back to what he was doing, and johnny feels powerless to say no. it’s a quick thing; he puts a dollop of cream at the head of taeyong’s cock, adds a slice of strawberry as a final touch. then, he kisses the tip and takes everything—everything—in.

“johnny—” taeyong’s moan is a broken sob, and his heels dig against johnny’s back. feeling a bit adventurous, he again pulls off from taeyong’s dick, raising the witch’s legs and holding them together, and he hums at the lovely view of his puckered hole.

“what are you—”

before taeyong could even think to protest, johnny swipes whipped cream on his entrance, and _licks._ taeyong makes a high keening noise—almost yelling—and his fingers tug on johnny’s locks, pulling him in deeper, feeling a hundred million things at having his ass treated like this.

“you even taste like cotton candy,” johnny comments, sliding one finger in as a substitute for his tongue. he pads around for that prized spot and curls when he sees taeyong writhe in bliss.

“d-do i?” taeyong manages to stutter, his vision filled with stars. “you’re the—ngh—first to tell me.”

johnny’s brows furrow at that. “has no one eaten you out?”

“n-no…” he shifts his hips, toes curling when it hits _right—there._ “you’re the first.”

“well,” johnny slides his finger out and ducks down, blows air at his rim as he croons. “i’m honored.”

johnny is a romantic. he’s a guy who believes in perfectly planned first dates, candlelit dinners, and moonlit serenades. he isn’t one for one-night stands, and he never puts out until he’s really sure of his feelings. but at this moment, with his tongue darting in and out of taeyong’s ass until the witch is crying out in pleasure, spurting his load in ribbons, he thinks romance can come in many, many forms.

 

**✨**

technology is a wonderful invention. taeyong has read of the medieval ways of communication witches before him have used to reach out to each other, and he has nothing but thanks for the magick who introduced the beauty of innovation to their kind. after all, finding good reception is considerably easier than drawing intricate pentagrams simply to deliver messages to the great, wide beyond.

(especially if your great, wide beyond is a wide-shouldered guy who is also a non-magical human.)

everything is much easier once taeyong got hold of johnny’s number. it’s been ages since his phone has been this active, and he hasn’t ran out of battery this quickly ever since phones started using those fancy lithium ones. he really only uses the slab of circuits for games, but now that he has someone to text and call and send video messages to, his battery can go from a hundred to ten in record time.

in a span of a few days, taeyong has learned a good couple of things about johnny. first, he’s a graduate student, pursuing a focused course on broadcast communication as part of his journey towards becoming a news anchor. taeyong thinks it’s admirable; having a big dream of the sorts, and he could only imagine how good the man would look in a suit, blabbering on about the news on television.

 

 

> **to:** jyani
> 
> [ that may actually make me want to watch the news >:o ]
> 
> **from** : jyani 
> 
> [ thank you ]
> 
> [ this has given me enough motivation for a couple of weeks ]
> 
> [ make sure to watch me, okay? ]
> 
> **to:** jyani
> 
> [ wouldn’t miss it for the world ❤]

the second thing he learns is that johnny is a radio dj for his university, with a regular show that airs every thursday evening. he finds this out on a wednesday, so taeyong makes it a point to find the viewable radio site that johnny mentioned, and even set an alarm so he wouldn’t miss the show when it’s on. thursday comes and his lips automatically curve into a smile when he sees johnny turn up on screen, dressed in the most _boyfriend_ of boyfriend outfits. taeyong decides that denim is his second favorite thing on johnny, the first one, of course, being his own self.

“welcome to snu night night,” johnny croons into his mic, and taeyong whips up his phone to text a quick [ _you have a voice for radio_ ] just to let him know that he’s staying tuned. when the music break comes, taeyong watches with anticipation, a giddy feeling rising up his chest when he sees the radio dj grin at his phone, thumbs quickly working on a reply that makes taeyong’s phone ding within seconds.

 

 

> **from** : jyani 
> 
> [ you’re tuning in? ]
> 
> **to:** jyani 
> 
> [ of course! i’m gonna be a regular listener now ❤ ]

endearment tugs at his heart when he sees a smile bloom on johnny’s lips as his reply sends. when the show comes back on, johnny makes mention of being notified that a special someone has been listening to his show. taeyong slaps his cheeks with his palms, willing away the bashful heat.

_what are you, taeyong? a teenager with a crush?_

“to that special someone,” johnny starts, and it seems as if he knows about the erratic jumps of taeyong’s heart when he directly looks at the camera while speaking. “i’ll see you next weekend.”  

 

 

> **to:** jyani
> 
> [ cheeseball ]
> 
> **from:** jyani 
> 
> [ ❤ ]

to top everything off, taeyong also discovers that johnny has a gift for photography, evidenced by his well-curated, highly-followed Instagram feed, which taeyong totally hasn’t stalked until the very first photo out of seven hundred. he finds it sweet that johnny even found time to send him an entire folder of the shots he took whenever they’re together, and taeyong excitedly uses one as his profile picture.

a thousand likes, all in three hours. that’s the power of johnny seo.

of course, communication is a two-way street, and taeyong has also been sharing tidbits about himself in the days that passed. johnny enthusiastically sent him a barrage of shocked ryan stickers upon his revelation of being the youngest in the coven, aside from being their whiz when it comes to whipping up potions. taeyong tells him about his coven meetings every wednesday and saturday, even going as far as to explain that the fancy suit and cloak johnny has seen him in first was part of the circle’s strict dress code. johnny was also especially excited about the painting classes taeyong attends every monday, and gushed praises over the little studies he’s been working on since they’ve started.

 

 

> **from:** jyani 
> 
> [ will you paint me like one of your french girls, then? ]

that got a laugh out of him, really, but he’s not giving johnny the satisfaction.

 

 

> **to** : jyani
> 
> [ ha-ha. how original ]
> 
> **from:** jyani
> 
> [ not even if i ask nicely? ]

taeyong bites down on his lip to keep himself from smiling too much.

 

 

> **to** : jyani
> 
> [ maybe for our hundred days 😉 ]

it’s nice, taeyong thinks, to have someone to constantly talk to in a way that did not feel exhausting. johnny is an enthusiastic texter, with a wide arsenal of reaction images and memes that never fail to send the young witch into a laughing fit. with their schedules out in the open, taeyong found it easy to create a texting routine, as well as an emoji code that proved incredibly handy.

for example _:_ taeyong sends a chocolate emoji and gets a delectable topless picture in return.

taeyong decides that he really, _really_ loves technology.

on a manic whim, taeyong gleans knowledge from the internet and sends over an eggplant emoji. the reply comes three hours later, right in the middle of his tea time with jungwoo, and the pink-haired witch almost spewed out his beverage at the million-dollar dick pic he’s been given. jungwoo blinks at him, obviously confused, but taeyong has gathered his things and ran off to his own cottage.

 

> **to:** jyani 
> 
> [ where are you right now? ]
> 
> [ i’m in bed. ]
> 
> [ thinking of you. ]

taeyong lies down on his mattress, teeth worrying his bottom lip as he waits for a reply.

 

 

> **from** : jyani
> 
> [ oh i’m on my desk working on a script for next week ]

_no, doofus_ , taeyong squints at the screen, before firing up the app’s camera function and taking a selfie that should be enough to get his message across. _i’m trying to sext you._

a few failed exchanges later, taeyong finally accepts johnny fact #45678: johnny is an awful sexter.

 

 

> **to** : jyani
> 
> [ hey ]
> 
> [ i’m gonna be honest with you ]

taeyong waits for a reply before continuing his confession. dramatics, you know?

 

> **from:** jyani
> 
> [ ? ]
> 
> **to:** jyani
> 
> [ i was trying to sext. ]

taeyong watches as three dots appear and reappear on his screen, shoulders shaking in glee when it happens for the tenth time. it seems johnny has never gotten his intention, and instead of finding it annoying, taeyong thinks it’s absolutely adorable.

what did the kids call it today? _whipped_?

 

 

> **from:** jyani
> 
> [ oh my god. i’m so sorry ]
> 
> [ this is from today. please use it however you will.]

a raunchy nude comes in after the apologies. it takes taeyong a couple of seconds to get what johnny was saying in his message, but he takes the bait anyway. he isn’t one to waste such a present.

and so, on a warm friday night, taeyong finds himself rutting violently into his pillow, johnny’s image vibrant in his imagination, johnny’s name dripping from his lips like a fevered, sinful prayer.  

he can’t wait for saturday to come.

 

**✨**

 

johnny knocks on his door at eleven in the morning, and it takes all but five seconds for taeyong to pull the door open and tiptoe for a chaste peck on the lips. he looks immaculate, as always, in a button up shirt and a knit cardigan. the gift today is a selection of cupcakes which taeyong positively coos over, snapping a quick picture to use as a reference for his future baking escapades.

“maybe you’re the witch and _i’m_ hansel,” taeyong jokes, swiping the pink icing with his index to get a quick taste. “you’ve been giving me pastries almost every weekend. are you planning to—”

taeyong wags his brows, suggestive. “— _eat me_?”

johnny sputters, eyes crinkling in embarrassment. taeyong beams at the red that colors his ears.

“only if you want to,” johnny parries, a thoughtful knuckle on his chin. “but actually—”

a loud yipping interrupts him, but it’s not curiosity for the thought that makes taeyong’s brows furrow. within seconds, a snow-white, coffee-faced papillon comes running into the room, tongue out in the open as it shoots straight towards johnny’s direction. panicking, taeyong begins an attempt to intercept the puppy’s pursuit, but the furbaby is much too fast, and taeyong can only watch in horror as—

—his puppy, his _temperamental_ , picky-as-hell puppy, has settled its front paws on johnny’s thigh, tail wagging and eyes sparkling, practically _begging_ to be carried into his arms.

taeyong’s jaw drops. from what he remembers, ruby does _not_ like people.

“you have a dog?” johnny asks, enthusiastic, a grin on his face as he picks ruby off of the floor and into his arms. ruby, _that little bitch,_ looks endlessly satisfied at the attention.

johnny, by ruby standards, is apparently, not _people_.

“a _familiar_ ,” taeyong corrects, still a bit shocked at the unusual scene. “h—”

“what’s her name?”

“ruby.”

“well _hello_ , miss ruby.”  johnny’s beam reflects endearment. taeyong’s eyes go wide as his familiar moves up and licks johnny’s cheek with a satisfied yip. “aren’t you as pretty as your master.”

suddenly, taeyong feels like he’s in wicked, but he’s not glinda the good witch. he’s _melting._

the day goes on as usual. taeyong tries his best not to be too pissed at his own familiar, who has decided that today would be a good day to monopolize his master’s not-boyfriend’s attention. but it’s no problem. taeyong is a patient man. he totally hasn’t spent a good part of the week thinking about the things he and johnny could do with each other. he’s happy that his familiar finally found someone else besides jungwoo to give her affections to. he feels like a proud father. _really._

he is totally not making use of this little window where ruby is idly skittering on the floor instead of lounging on johnny’s lap to brush his fingers on johnny’s thigh, moving up, up, _up—_

—until johnny takes his hand in his and intertwines their digits with a small, “hey.”

taeyong looks at him confused, blinking with furrowed brows. “yeah?”

“i was hoping…” johnny’s tone is sheepish, tentative, like he’s expecting taeyong to reject his idea. taeyong wants to tell him he’ll be happy to do anything with him, even just _breathing._

“yeah?”

“i was hoping we could do something else today.”

“oh,” he tries his best to not sound disappointed, but there’s apology already reflected in johnny’s honey-brown hues. “of course. _sure_. what…what did you have in mind, johnny?”

this is how taeyong finds himself in the middle of a _star wars_ marathon. johnny tells him that he juggled between three series, but he ditched the magical universes for something more futuristic. truth be told, taeyong didn’t really expect to enjoy himself at all, but johnny makes for an incredibly comfortable cushion, and he has quite the thing for that little voice he uses to explain certain plot points.

johnny insists they begin with episode three, and by the half of episode four, taeyong is already invested in jedi politics and the intricate lore of the galactic universe. by episode six, he is sniffling at the final scene between vader and luke. and _boy_ did johnny have to bring out the bigger box of tissues for the heartbreak of episode three. even ruby had to jump off of johnny’s lap to seek peace from the wailing.

at the end of the marathon, with the sun setting in the horizon, taeyong has become a complete fan.

“look, johnny!” he points at a canister and makes it float. “i’m using the _force_!”

johnny lets out an endeared chuckle, before doing a hilarious yoda impersonation. “a _jedi,_ you are.”

taeyong grins wide, full of mirth. “you’re the tallest yoda i’ve ever seen.”

“am i?” johnny inches closer, and taeyong’s eyes dart to the beautiful bow on his upper tier. “you know the jedi order...”

“ _fuck the jedi order_ ,” taeyong rules, and closes the distance between his and johnny’s lips.

it’s a slow kiss, nothing too torrid, and taeyong feels like johnny has every intent of keeping the kiss as gentle as it could be. he doesn’t push; there’s a comfort in this softness, a homey warmth seeping to his cheeks, to his fingers, to his toes. he doesn’t remember the last time he’s been kissed like this, and with johnny stealing his breath with every osculation, taeyong decides this is all he wants to remember.

unfortunately, ruby has other ideas as she jumps into johnny’s lap, making him break the kiss in shock.

“ruby,” taeyong whines, half-scolding. “you’re _interrupting_.”

the spoiled papillon simply huffs, making herself comfortable on johnny’s thighs.

“what a thief,” taeyong says with faux bite, curling up against johnny’s side. “that’s _my_ spot.”

he feels johnny’s arm move to circle around his waist, pull him ever closer.

when the night deepens, taeyong invites johnny to sleep over, who fortunately obliges. the woods are not as friendly when the sun is down, and his bed can comfortably fit two. taeyong snickers at how short his shorts are on johnny’s long legs, but it seems as if they wear the same size of shirt—a fact that made taeyong pout just a little bit because he may have wanted to see johnny in a tighter fit.

“can i spoon you?” johnny asks, and taeyong simply curls up beside him, his back to johnny’s chest.

“you don’t even have to ask.”

morning comes and taeyong wakes first, the arm on his waist making for quite a comfortable weight. twirls his index to summon his phone, takes a selfie for commemorative purposes. soon, johnny stirs, and taeyong playfully pushes his hips back for a reaction, smiling to himself at the hard-on he feels.

“taeyong,” johnny’s voice is deeper from slumber, and taeyong adores all of it. “not today.”

taeyong pouts, but he’s a man who respects _consent_ ; settles, instead, with turning his body so he can bury his face in the admirable dip between johnny’s chest.

ruby, for once, sleeps soundly in her doggy bed.

johnny bids his farewell a bit after breakfast. it seems as if they both want the morning to be longer, their pair lingering in the doorway, stealing soft kisses after every said good bye.

“really, i have to _go_ ,” with effort, johnny pulls away from the witch, choosing to stand at a considerably safer distance. “the more we do this, the more i’m not going to want to leave.”

“maybe that was my plan all along,” taeyong teases, leaning against the door frame.

johnny shakes his head, snorting. “see you next weekend—”

“ _wait_!”

johnny blinks at being interrupted, but taeyong has already rushed inside his cottage to retrieve a small wooden box, along with a trinket. johnny walks closer, eyeing the items with curiosity.

“your coffee problem,” taeyong begins, stating a johnny fact he has learned over the week. johnny winces at the mention. “i made these potions for you; i _assure_ you, they’ll be better than coffee.”

“oh,” johnny accepts the box, tucks it under his arm. “thanks.”

“and…” taeyong reaches for his wrist and puts a bracelet around it. the bracelet itself is made of delicately woven hemp, with a small, golden bead sitting in the middle. “a charm.”

johnny raises his arm, inspecting the artifact. “did you make this?”

“mhm.” taeyong nods. “it’s imbued with magic. it’ll keep you safe from harm.”

this time, johnny shows his gratitude with a gentle kiss. “it’s beautiful. thank you.”

“you’re welcome,” taeyong leans in for another lip lock. “i’ll see you, johnny.”

with a final peck, johnny sets-off for the path back to the city. taeyong sighs against his door frame, barely even registering ruby’s good morning yips as he watches johnny disappear into the foilage.

 

**✨**

 

taeyong barges into jungwoo’s little hut in the early afternoon, effectively interrupting the poor necromancer’s séance. candles litter the wooden floor, the smell of smoke hanging heavy in the air, and jungwoo pouts at him from under his cloak. taeyong, for the record, feels minimally apologetic.

“jungwoo,” he whines, elongating the other’s name for a few good seconds. “i think i’m in _love_.”

“with who?” jungwoo asks with brows furrowed, tone disbelieving. “the guy whose dick you remember?”

taeyong nods, realizes that he’s crying. “he’s come back thrice, jungwoo. _thrice._ ”

a tissue box floats towards his direction. taeyong picks a couple of sheets up and blows his nose.

“thrice?” jungwoo’s eyes go wide, like he couldn’t believe that anybody would make the effort to hike an entire mountain just for some mclovin’. “didn’t you mention he hated hiking?”

“i _know_.” taeyong wails, a torrent of tears flooding down his cheeks. “and get this—ruby _likes_ him.”

the necromancer sits across his friend, eyes going even wider. “ruby doesn’t like _anyone_.”

taeyong affirms, fervently nodding, wiping his nose with more tissues.

“ruby doesn’t even show herself to people.” jungwoo continues, contemplating the implication. “ _huh_.”

“it’s a sign, jungwoo.” taeyong laments, gesturing with his tissue-filled fist. “a _sign_.”

jungwoo reaches out, pats the sobbing witch on his arm. he twirls his finger, summoning another tissue box, which promptly floats to taeyong. the pink-haired witch takes a few more sheets, but it seems as if his overwhelmed by emotion, because the tears just won’t stop coming, and with that, the _snot._

“i’m in love,” he repeats, despite feeling disgusting. his mind has the audacity to tell him that johnny would still love him even if he saw him looking like this. “i’m in love, and not just with his dick.”

taeyong begins hiccupping, and jungwoo looks around for any one of this two boyfriends for some assistance. he spots jaehyun and waves, and the handsome boy disappears into the kitchen to brew tea. it takes a couple of minutes before he re-emerges, dainty tray in hand, and jungwoo shakes his head to keep him from walking further, opting instead to twirl his finger and let the tea things float to the table.

“he’s not going to break your heart, is he?” jungwoo asks, and taeyong is thankful for the worry in his tone. the boy may be eccentric, but his heart is in the right place, like most of those living in the woods.

“god,” taeyong smushes his face into his palm, sniffling. “i’d probably thank him if he does _anything_.”

jungwoo quirks a brow, eager to retort, but taeyong raises a finger to shush him.

“ _jungwoo._ ” taeyong sits a little straighter, his tone serious. “he ate my ass out. i didn’t even have to ask him. he just folded me over, kissed my dick, and went to town in the rabbit hole.”

the necromancer gapes, but it’s more of surprise than scandal.

“he said i tasted like cotton candy.” taeyong continues, sounding pained. he’s really smitten, isn’t he? “call me crazy, but i don’t think a man like that will break my heart into pieces.”

“but you usually do the eating,” jungwoo exclaims, breathlessly dramatic.

“i _know_!” taeyong howls. the waterworks begin again, and jungwoo fetches more boxes of tissues.

“you got a keeper,” jungwoo motions with fervent nods. “a _keeper_.”

“yeah.” taeyong nods in agreement, blowing his nose into another sheet. “i’m keeping him _forever_.”

 

**✨**

 

it’s becoming a habit, really. from having his saturdays solely reserved for friends, johnny has made a routine of hiking up the mountains to seek company with a pink-haired witch he finds most dear.

“hiking, _again_?” yuta prods, looking completely unconvinced by whatever lie johnny has yet to say.

“yeah,” johnny fixes his knapsack on his shoulders, brushes his hair back. he takes one final look at the mirror and nods at his baggy sweater chic ensemble. _rocking_. “yeah i am.”

“that must be a really nice clearing.”

“mhm,” it’s an absent-minded hum. johnny double checks his things, makes sure nothing is forgotten.

“what’s his name?”

“ _taeyong_ ,” johnny says without thinking, and yuta bursts into a loud guffaw. _fuck_. “wait— _no_ —”

“okay, lover boy.” yuta teases, slow-clapping. “have fun on your date.”

johnny’s jaw drops as he squints in disbelief. “fuck you.”

“save it for your _clearing_.”

johnny makes sure to flip at least three birds at his best friend before leaving.

the weather has shifted into something much cooler. johnny finds himself preferring lazy weekends over anything else. today isn’t any different; taeyong is in his arms, cheek smooshed against his chest at how tightly he’s burrowed in (“smells nice. i like it here.”). he thinks it’s adorable, and he’s rendered completely helpless at the need to place a kiss against his temple.

the witch stirs, and johnny watches his nose scrunch, kisses it too.

“johnny,” taeyong whines, his lips cutely pouted. yes, johnny kisses those as well.

“’morning.” he greets, brushing a few stray bangs away from the witch’s face. “or _afternoon_ , really.”

“mmf,” taeyong reminds johnny of a petulant child, demanding more sleep. “five more minutes.”

five more minutes pass in comfortable silence. ruby’s low yips can be heard from the gardens, creating a soft harmony with the sounds of their breathing. johnny thinks he could spend everyday like this.

“hey,” he noses taeyong’s forehead. “five minutes is up.”

a muffled groan. “time is a _concept_.”

johnny is immeasurably amused. “come _on_. i need to tell you something.”

at those words, taeyong’s eyes fly open, a flash of worry painted in his features. johnny feels the man stiffen in his arms, hears his heart beat quicken, so he soothes with gentle strokes until he calms.

“oh no, nothing bad,” he assures, hoping his eyes can send his apologies. “i just want you to know that i can’t be here next week. finals are coming up and i can’t risk slacking off.”

taeyong heaves a sigh of relief. “i _thought_ …” a pause; johnny believes it’s contemplative. “i thought you were going to tell me we can’t do this anymore. _or something._ ”

johnny gasps, visibly offended. “i would _never_!”

the uncomfortable air is replaced by heaps of melodious laughter.

“what about the potions?” taeyong asks, eyes sparkling with expectation. “have they been useful?”

“oh, oh yes,” johnny affirms with eager nods. “much better than coffee. no crash either.”

taeyong beams. “i’ll give you another box. you go ace your finals.”

johnny, again, is rendered helpless against the urge to pepper taeyong’s face with kisses. the witch giggles with every butterfly that lands on his cheeks, his forehead, his nose, his lips.

“i have an idea,” taeyong breaks off from the chaos, mischief in his hues. “wanna help you de-stress.”

johnny is halfway into a confused nod when taeyong captures his mouth in a heady kiss.

“ _taeyong_ —what are you—” he stops to let a moan escape when taeyong moves from his lips to his neck, tracing a line from his jaw and down to what is exposed with his collarbone. with a swift move, taeyong is on top of him, hands roaming around the expanse of his torso as he slides down, down, until he’s kneeling at the foot of the bed, his face right between johnny’s legs.

“today, it’s all about _you.”_ taeyong rules, quickly ridding johnny of his sweatpants and boxers. his dick is already half-hard from spooning, and it only takes a few tugs from taeyong’s talented hands for it to stand on full attention. johnny moans when taeyong licks the leaking tip with a kittenish tease, head knocking back when the witch licks an entire stripe up his shaft.

“god— _taeyong_ ,” he grunts, hips bucking into taeyong’s throat as he takes all of him in, and the witch moans in pleasure, eyes rolling back. johnny watches the tuft of pink bob up and down in a steady rhythm, and he tangles his fingers into the candy-colored locks, gently tugging at the roots.

taeyong sucks in, and johnny swears he could suddenly name every damn constellation.

“i _want_ —” taeyong heaves a breath, hand replacing his mouth on johnny’s cock to get a few words in, voice rough from the exertion. “want you to come in my mouth, johnny.”

johnny nods, his brain a muddled haze, and taeyong goes to town with his sinful, sinful mouth.

he comes quickly, hears taeyong gasp when he bucks up with his orgasm, feels his dick hitting the back of the witch’s throat. but taeyong does not come off of his dick, not until he’s drained of his load, and johnny could feel his dick twitch when taeyong shows him his dirtied mouth before swallowing.

“ _god_ ,” johnny’s voice is thick with ecstasy. “get—get back on top of me.”

there’s a few beats of hesitation, but johnny feels the bed dip, and he holds taeyong steady as he straddles either side of johnny’s waist. he pulls the witch down, captures his lips in an open-mouthed kiss, moaning as he licks inside of taeyong’s mouth which tastes heavily of his own climax.

“j-johnny,” taeyong stutters against his lips, and johnny can feel his hardened cock against his own stomach. “i said— _ngh_ —i said today was going to be all about you.”

johnny protests with another heated kiss. “consider it that. i like making you happy.”

with a few words, taeyong melts against his form, and johnny slides back to sit up against the headboard. he pulls taeyong’s shorts down, just enough for his dick to spring free, and tugs at a rough rhythm while his tongue laves against taeyong’s own. it’s a quick release; johnny is skilled and eager to please, and taeyong is singing expletives in his ears, spilling his load all over johnny’s hand.

“good?” johnny swipes a wet finger against taeyong’s cheek, licks the residue to tease. taeyong trembles against him, before capturing his mouth in a short osculation.

“ _great_.” taeyong breathes, knocking his forehead against johnny’s. “just wonderful.”

they clean up after a few more kisses. johnny changes into a fresh shirt, leaving his slightly stained sweater on taeyong’s bed. he leaves before sundown, carrying a new box of potions, his cheeks flushed from all the goodluck kisses taeyong peppered it with before he left.

he receives a text soon after he arrives home.

 

 

> **from:** taeyongie
> 
> [ you left your sweater ;A; ]

johnny’s lips curl into a wolfish grin. how adorable.

 

 

> **to:** taeyongie
> 
> [ oh ]
> 
> [ that was on purpose 😊]

before he sleeps, taeyong sends him the prettiest selfie, and johnny pats himself on the back for an a plus move. for a moment, he thinks of pooling all his sweaters and leaving them all with the witch.

 

**✨**

johnny really doesn’t come over during the weekend.

taeyong isn’t too disappointed. contrary to popular belief, he really isn’t that needy, and being with johnny for the past few weeks has given him more affection than he could ever ask for. he’s _wonderful,_ really, everything that taeyong could ever ask for, and it’s not just because he’s an ace at eating ass.

he’s texted jungwoo about it, how he felt about the entire situation.

 

 

> **to:** snoopy
> 
> [ it’s like i have a boyfriend ]

the reply comes in under two minutes, and taeyong glares at the obnoxiousness of it.

 

 

> **from:** snoopy
> 
> [ that’s great, hyung! ]
> 
> [ i have two ]
> 
> [ attachment: do_woo_jae.jpeg ]

but he’s not too angry. especially because he’s barely halfway into typing a strongly worded reply for the necromancer when he receives a notification from johnny. taeyong feels his heart beat loudly as he opens the message, but he couldn’t care less. he’s in love, and he’s not about to be shy about it.

it’s a picture of a cat with a pink collar, and taeyong coos at the utter cuteness of it all. one thing he’s learned in the past few weeks is that johnny’s a better photographer than he could have ever imagined, landing high-profile shoots from time to time despite being a graduate student. his Instagram is highly active now because of how much johnny loves to take his pictures, but he’s not complaining. how could he? he gets a cute boy with the sweetest personality, a shitton of cute photos, and a lot of mclovin’.

 

 

> **from:** jyani
> 
> [ i miss you :c ]

taeyong’s cheeks hurt from smiling too much at one simple message.

 

 

> **to:** jyani
> 
> [ i miss you more :c ]

to prove his point, taeyong takes a selfie from his cutest angle and hits send. it doesn’t even take a second before he’s bombarded with at least twenty heart attack stickers, two memes of bursting hearts, and at least seven lines of heart emojis. all the pink ones.

he sends one heart emoji back, the double pink hearts that johnny has attached to his contact name. he also sends a kissy face selfie after, captions it with “good luck on your exams!” and only feels a slight pang of longing when he receives no further reply after.

see, he’s understanding _patient_. he could totally make this work.

it isn’t until after dinner that he receives an answer, and it’s johnny asking if he could call. taeyong obliges, because he’s a sucker for johnny’s telephone voice, and it’s been so long (read: a day) since he’s last heard it. he has no expectations, his mind already brimming with words of good luck and comfort, so he’s a bit surprised when all he hears from the end of the line is a series of low panting.

“johnny?” he asks, worried. was he—

“what are you wearing?”

frantic, taeyong locks the door and walks straight into his bedroom, drawing the curtains closed as he makes himself comfortable on the bed. he puts the phone on loudspeaker, takes a deep breath as he psyches himself for everything that will happen next. patience really is a virtue, huh?

“your sweater,” he confesses, his hand travelling up the soft fabric that smells so much like johnny and johnny’s cologne. “the one you left from last week because i said you smelled nice.”

there’s a hitched breath at the end of the line. _bingo._

johnny hums, a soft purr through the telephone wire. “and where are you right now?”

“in bed,” taeyong makes his voice sound as sweet as possible. “thinking of you.”

he hears johnny chuckle and marks another point for himself. “and what am i doing to you?”

it’s all a blur from there. within minutes, taeyong’s pants are strewn on the floor along with his boxers, johnny’s sweater hiked up to his chest. one hand pumps at his dick in a messy rhythm, another splayed on his chest, teasing his hardening nipples. he’s moaning, and obscenely at that, his words a garbled mix of johnny’s name and other incomprehensible syllables, all denoting blissed out pleasure.

“you’re so _deep_ ,” he sobs, keening from the low groans coming from johnny’s end. “so deep in me—hard—rough—and i’m clenching around you— _ngh_ —need you to— _ah_ —fill me up.”

taeyong learns that if johnny’s a solid d when it comes to sexting, he’s an a plus plus at phone sex.

“and i will, baby,” johnny croons, sounding breathless. “and i want you to hold out for me.”

taeyong slows his pumps, lets his hand travel down in soothing circles on his stomach, takes deep, shaky breaths, in an effort to keep his orgasm at bay. he can do this. _for johnny_. “yes, i am— _ah_ —i _am._ ”

the next minutes feel like an eternity. taeyong’s feet dig into the mattress, his touches barely a ghost on his shaft, afraid that he might come undone the moment he grabs on. then, he hears hurried pants at the end of the line, a couple of low grunts, and he choruses with a long moan of his own.

“i’m close,” johnny’s hoarse from arousal, and taeyong thinks it’s the hottest thing in the world.

he holds out until johnny’s coming, signaled by a low, yelled groan from the other end. it only takes a few tugs until he’s seeing stars himself, his stomach covered in thick white come after the deed is done. for a moment, the only sounds in the room were his and johnny’s coupled gasps, and taeyong, blissed out, dazed, and absolutely sated taeyong, thinks he could write a song to the melody.

a giggle pulls him out from his haze. how dare johnny sound so cute after something so intense.

“i’ll see you on the weekend?” johnny asks, almost shy. taeyong grins at the irony of it.

“of course. i’ll see you on the wee—”

“ _oh shit_!”

taeyong blinks at the sudden interruption, completely sobered up by worry. “johnny?”

“oh, sorry, _sorry_.” there’s a rustle of paper at the other end. “i…i got come on my reviewer.”

 

**✨**

 

in contrast with johnny, yuta does not have any weekend routine to abide by. they used to be on the same boat; going with the flow, keeping their weekends free of any schedules so they’ll be ready for any last-minute plans. it’s how the hike of the century happened; a random whim that may have ended up with his best friend getting lost in the woods, but johnny seems to be happier because of it.

yuta thinks it’s because he’s found _someone_. johnny isn’t the biggest fan of hiking, and to see him set out almost every saturday to go up the mountains is a bit too out of character. yuta really doesn’t mind it, though. _good for him._ all he wishes is for the guy to just come clean and stop calling his date a clearing.

it’s friday, the first weekend after finals season has freed all students from its shackles. medical school is challenging, and he’s really keen on getting rid of all that wound up stress. he waits until johnny is out from the shower—kind of a policy of theirs to always say their goodbyes in person—maybe also ask if he wants to come town for karaoke and a couple of drinks. it has been a while since their last weekend out.

a knock on the door interrupts his impromptu planning.

“johnny?” he shouts loud enough for his roommate to hear, knowing quite well that he hasn’t invited any of his friends over. “you expecting anyone?”

a garbled “no” from behind the bathroom door makes his brows furrow.

still, yuta makes his way towards the door, curious as to who the visitor is. it probably isn’t even a visitor—it could be a neighbor asking for sugar, or a student selling cookies, or—

a pink haired _twink_ dressed like some pop idol, eyes blown wide in urgency, hand tight on a dog carrier.

“may i help y—?”

“johnny?” rockstar pinky pie calls out, and yuta’s quite sure this guy hasn’t even seen him. “this is where johnny lives, right? he gave me this vague address and—”

recognition flashes in the frazzled dude’s hues, a gasp tumbling out of his system.

“oh my _god_ —” pinky pie exclaims, mouth in an o-shape. “you must be _yuta_!”

for a moment, yuta thinks the guy is going to hit him—totally not weird at all—and he braces his arms up in defense. but no impact arrives. he hears the bathroom door open, and yuta looks back to see his roommate dressed in his lounge clothes, a towel over his head, a worried look on his features.

“what’s wrong yu—” now, johnny isn’t looking at him, but through him. “ _taeyong?”_

 _taeyong._ where has he heard that name again?

right. the _clearing._

before he could even process everything that is happening, rockstar pinky pie— _taeyong_ —shoves the dog carrier in his hands and runs inside, launching himself at the six-foot man with the grace of a gymnast. johnny catches him with ease—almost _too much_ ease—and yuta blinks by the doorway, quite  unsure of what on earth he’s going to do with the dog that’s been deposited to him.

at least he thinks it’s a dog. it’s _yipping_ , for god’s sake.

“what are you doing here?” johnny asks, and yuta wonders about how much has happened between the two, because it’s the first time he’s hearing johnny speak in such a gentle tone. _disgusting_.

taeyong’s legs are wound tight around johnny’s waist, arms latched around his neck. “i missed you.”

“he—” yuta opens his mouth to call attention to the carrier in his arms, but the two have already begun sucking face so _intensely_ that all he can do is gently set the box on the floor before bolting to his room to collect his things. he hears a door slam once he’s out, and that’s all the prompting he needs to get out of the damn house before he bears witness to something that he really doesn’t fancy seeing.

 

**✨**

 

johnny’s hands are quick, and he has a talent in multitasking. within moments, taeyong’s clothes are easily discarded, leaving him in only his boxers as johnny (gently) throws him on the bed. he bites his lip at the tent showing through the thin material, and it takes a needy whine from taeyong for him to crawl over and slot their lips together for yet another filthy kiss, all teeth and tongue and _wanting_.

taeyong tugs at his shirt, speaks against his lips. “ _off_.”

johnny complies, lifts the shirt over his head and throws it to the other side of the bedroom.

taeyong is swift, his hands eagerly exploring the expanse of johnny’s exposed skin. his palms press against his chest, hover over his abs, splay against his back to draw constellations on the surface. johnny keens at the touch, grinds down on taeyong’s barely clothed arousal.

“want _you_ —” taeyong cups his ass with a firm grip, pressing their hips together. “johnny.”

eager to please, johnny separates from the witch with a gentle kiss, shedding off the rest of his clothing. taeyong pulls down his own boxers, and johnny thinks he looks like a delectable minx with the way his eyes never leave his, the way his teeth drag over his lips in temptation. his breath hitches at how beautiful taeyong is, bare and flushed and wanting, but his eyes go wide when taeyong holds his thighs up, maintaining the sticky eye contact despite being fully exposed.

for a second, johnny forgets how to properly breathe.

“ _johnny_ ,” taeyong beckons, and johnny kneels at the foot of the bed, both hands on taeyong’s ass cheeks, spreading him out. he blows air on the puckered rim, smirks when he feels taeyong writhe at the sensation, but the witch is quick to tap his shoulder with his heel.

“hm?” an inquiry; johnny wants to make sure he knows what taeyong wants, exactly how he wants it.

“not _that_ —” taeyong whines, syllables already slurred from haze. “i want your _dick_.”

johnny flushes at the honesty, but he’s quick to regain his bearings. “okay.”

he stands to fetch the lube from his bedside drawer, pouring a generous amount on his fingers and on taeyong’s waiting entrance. careful, he inserts one finger, the wall of muscle barely protesting at the act.

“don’t— _ngh_ —bother,” taeyong cries as he adds in another finger. “i’m— _ah!_ i prepared.”

still, johnny wants to be careful, so he keeps at his ministrations until taeyong is fucking himself against his fingers, loudly and obscenely begging for more. johnny removes his fingers and crawls over the witch, claiming his lips in another filthy lip lock. he pulls back to align his cock against taeyong’s entrance, eyes fluttering to a close as he pushes into the tight heat. taeyong arches against him, his name tumbling out from taeyong’s mouth like a high-pitched prayer.

“tight—” johnny grunts, working on a steady rhythm. “you feel so— _ngh_ —good.”

“johnny,” taeyong slurs, and johnny leans forth to swallow his moans. “j— _johnny_!”

pulling back, johnny lifts taeyong hips from the bed, finds a better angle to thrust in. taeyong writhes against the sheets, fingers tangling on the blue cotton, his body trembling in ecstasy.

“johnny— _i_ —”

johnny sits him up, presses his back against the head board. taeyong’s eyes roll back as johnny thrusts deep into ass, delirious as he seeks johnny’s mouth for a lip lock, all teeth, tongue, and spit. his arms wound around johnny’s shoulders, his legs locked on his lower back. johnny rests his forehead against the witch’s, chasing a few ghosts of kisses, enjoying the way taeyong shivers in pure bliss.

“i love you—” taeyong cries, the words choked out between sobs. “i love you, johnny, _i love you_.”

for a while, johnny doubts the sincerity behind the slurred syllables, but he sees taeyong’s eyes—clear and bright despite the tears, despite the haze of arousal. johnny kisses him again, fervent and with intent, and he feels wetness run down his cheeks, tastes salt in their osculation.

“i love you too, taeyong.” johnny breathes, punctuated with a kiss. “i love you.”

it takes seconds for them to come undone. johnny comes deep inside taeyong, the tight heat turning slick with his load. taeyong spurts thick ribbons against his stomach, grip tight on johnny’s back as he rides out his orgasm. slowly, johnny lays taeyong back against the mattress, peppering his face with gentle kisses, and their pants and gasps soon get replaced with breathy, melodious giggles.

“don’t pull out yet,” taeyong requests, legs wrapped tight around johnny’s torso. johnny complies, presses his body flush against taeyong’s, moaning when the witch begins to move around.

“love it like this—” taeyong presses a wet kiss against his cheek. “love you.”

“i love y—”

their moment is interrupted by a series of loud yips, coming from the other side of the door. the haze is gone in an instant. johnny suddenly remembers seeing a carrier passed in yuta’s arms before everything turned into a blur. he looks at taeyong, who’s already as wide-eyed as he is, then looks back at the door in fear and understanding.

“ _ruby!_ ”

 

**✨**

 

johnny believes he should get an award for good after care. after the intense session, he’s cleaned both himself and taeyong up, changed the sheets, and even sprayed febreze to mask the lingering smell of sex in his bedroom. _okay,_ it was taeyong who sprayed the febreze, mentioning that it’s his favorite, and johnny just _lets him_ , because what else is he going to do in the guise of someone so adorable? say no?

it’s oddly domestic. johnny remains shirtless upon taeyong’s request, sweatpants on as he lies back on the bed. taeyong is on top of him, drowning in one of his hoodies, his boxers peeking out from under the long hem. ruby skitters around the floor of johnny’s bedroom, exploring the new territory, and johnny has expressed some worry over possible accidents, but taeyong has assured him that ruby is completely potty-trained and would only pee on (1) freshly-mowed grass and (2) the enemies of the coven.

(“your coven has enemies?” johnny asks, eyes wide in surprise and worry. “should i be scared?”

taeyong shakes his head, sleepy against his pectoral muscles. “nah. you can take ‘em.”)

see, johnny puts a lot of pride in being romantic. it’s his _thing_. he’s good with words and knows he’s charming, and it is what got him what he has now. there’s this stubborn part in him that wants this to be perfect, with candles and rose petals and the works, when he finally drops _the_ question.  

but he looks at taeyong, sees the soft flutter of his lashes as he tries his best not to fall asleep, the gentle slope of his nose, the pretty curve of his back, and thinks— _decides_ —that there is no better time than now, no better day than today.

“be my boyfriend.”

it’s sudden, especially with the way taeyong lifts up from his chest to look at him with widened hues. johnny blinks, suddenly unsure of where he stood, but taeyong speaks before he could spiral further.   

“what?” there’s offense in the witch’s tone and it confuses him. did he misread th—“but i already told jungwoo that you were my boyfriend a week ago! what do you mean _be my boyfriend?_ ”

johnny gapes, opens his mouth to retort, then closes it again. panic makes him look like a fish.

also, _who’s jungwoo?_

“i mean—”

“i’m kidding.” taeyong’s expression softens, and he leans back against johnny’s chest, nuzzling his cheek on the slight valley between his pecs. johnny lets himself breathe, then snort, then chuckle, hitting taeyong’s ass with a light slap that earns him a whine. “ _ow_ —of course i’ll be your boyfriend.”

he crawls up, hovering so their faces are level. johnny, completely smitten, steals a peck, and enjoys the way it makes taeyong’s face light up, gets a giggle to tumble out of his pinkish mouth.

“great,” johnny thinks he sounds so lame, so far gone. “for a second, i thought you were gonna say no.”

“gosh, _johnny_.” this time, it’s taeyong who sneaks in a little kiss, mischief twinkling in his doe-eyes. “do you really think i’d say no to a guy who loves eating my ass?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> i've wanted to write for this fandom since november. after juggling 35467890 aus, i've finally put something out. 
> 
> to everyone who helped me with this, especially ao3 joongki who's been a most helpful sounding board, as well as my betas, thank you. this is for you. 
> 
> this is an entire universe, really. maybe i'll write more of it out, who knows. all in all, i just hope you guys enjoy my entry into the wonderful world of johnyong, and the wonderful world of nct.
> 
> scream at me @ seojyans on twitter. comments are highly appreciated, of course!


End file.
